Starcross'd Lovers
by Foxberries
Summary: AU where Katniss is a Capitol citizen working under Cinna, and Peeta is a District 12 tribute. The Capitol creates a relationship between him and his fellow tribute, and any other alternative is fiercely forbidden. Katniss tries to save him.
1. Chapter 1

It is nearing that time of the year again, and the Capitol is in uproar with excitement. People are buying and selling merchandise already, whilst others are busy gossiping and wondering on this year's theme over steaming cups of non-fat latte. The Gamemakers are busy, keeping their heads down, revealing no secrets, locked away behind the doors of the Planning Centre. Citizens are already baying for blood.

Katniss Everdeen, as beautiful and pampered as they come, is hard at work with her mentor, Cinna. The lucky girl had been selected to act as an apprentice and assistant to the stylist, who was debuting with District 12 that year. People aren't expecting much from this minor district, but Cinna and Katniss are only too eager to prove them all wrong.

I understand it is important for the narrative voice to remain unbiased and apathetic to events, but I feel I should tell you this: Katniss Everdeen is an unpleasant girl. She has been spoiled rotten, and her cheeks are stained a self-satisfied and luxurious pink. She holds her mouth in a way similar to that of a pedigree cat, one that sleeps on a velvet cushion and is brushed daily with the utmost care and concern. We cannot blame her, of course; she is a Capitol citizen. She bays for blood along with everyone else. But I should tell you, reader, that she will not always remain the human equivalent of a Persian cat. Katniss changes entirely, in fact, because she falls in love.

As I write this, Katniss is lounging beside a wide window, supervising the machine that is busily cutting and sewing the pieces of glitzy fabric. A glass of shandy is encased between her two-inch long pine-coloured nails as she watches the light reflect off her bejewelled dress. It will soon be the Reaping, and Katniss is excited, but not undignified. She has seen years of the games, and this one will likely be no different; nevertheless, she anxiously awaits the revelation of the designs she helped to create alongside Cinna.

The machine slows to a stop, and Katniss reluctantly gets to her feet, tottering towards the finished product in her 6-inch stilettos, complete with crystallised jewel beetles. She takes the fabric in her claws and holds it in front of her, admiring the dress she worked so hard to design. Cinna had told her last week that he was planning the final stage of the tributes' parade outfits, and that it could be potentially dangerous, so she should preoccupy herself with something safer. Katniss, only too happy to comply, started work on designing her own dress for the parade. She knew she wouldn't be thrown into the limelight like the tributes, but what if a camera caught sight of her? She wanted to make an impression.

The dress is coated entirely in silver sequins that shine in every colour of the rainbow when under the light, and falls to the floor in rippling waves, not unlike the shape of a river frozen mid-flow. It has a sweetheart neckline, wide straps, and sleeves made of black mesh, similar in shape to the sleeves of a classic kimono. She is very pleased with the final product, and holds it up against herself, admiring the colours.

"And I thought the tributes had to make an impression," Katniss hears the voice of her mentor and spins to face him, grinning. "That's wonderful, Katniss."

"It's beautiful, isn't it? I hope I don't outshine our little friends this year," she smirks.

"Oh, trust me, you won't," Cinna raises an eyebrow then lifts his arm to check his watch. "The Reapings start in a couple of hours, shall we adjourn to the living room?"

"Okay, I'll just put the dress in my apartment," Katniss says, not taking her eyes off her dress. As Cinna closes the door behind him, she darts to the other side of her studio and admires her reflection in the floor-length mirror. She lingers here too long, and her mouth takes on the unpleasantly confident smile that others have come to recognise and avoid. It is only the sound of Cinna's voice, calling her for cocktails and a light lunch, that urges her to put the dress away, along with her vanity.


	2. Chapter 2

It may simply be the cocktails, but Katniss feels dizzily euphoric, lounging on the plush chaise longue and batting her eyes at the female stylist's attractive assistant. He isn't her type, really; but she loves the attention he pours over her. He's done it for a while now, and though the poor boy seems far too shy to make any moves on her, it's more than obvious that he can't keep his eyes off her.

"How many cocktails is that now, Katniss?" Portia presses her lips together and shoots Katniss a disapproving look.

"Oh, who cares? It's the Reapings! Lighten up," she cackles, throwing her head back. She is very aware of the boy's eyes on her.

"They're starting, ladies," Cinna interrupts, gently nudging their attention to the large projection on the opposite wall.

Caesar Flickerman's toothy grin meets their gaze and within minutes the replay of all of the Reapings is playing.

Katniss pays attention to the first few, admittedly losing interest once the muscular blonde boy from 2 has left the screen. She flirtatiously looks over at Portia's assistant, fluttering her fake eyelashes and blushing with pleasure.

Basking in admiration is one of her more favoured hobbies, even at crucial moments like this. She can see Portia's disdainful glances out of the corner of her eye, but ignores them, sliding her dress higher up her leg for the benefit of the boy. She proudly ruffles her feathers when she sees his Adam's apple hitch in his throat.

It is a miracle that she manages to take note of any tributes at all, but she makes a mental note of a tiny girl with beautiful eyes from District 10. Then, she is forced to pay attention to District 12, as Cinna leans forward between her and the boy and prevents any contact. She begrudgingly looks at the projection and watches the representative reach into the glass ball.

"Madge Undersee!" she calls, and a woman begins to wail hauntingly in the audience. A blonde girl walks forward, visibly trembling, wearing a pretty white dress and looking starkly out of place in the sea of faded colours and dirty faces.

The commentators reveal that this girl is the niece of a former tribute who died in the Games, and a close up from one of the Capitol's ingenious cameras shows that Madge wears her aunt's token: a small bird pin.

A boy's name is called – "Peeta Mellark!" – and Katniss watches in vague interest as he climbs the stairs. She notes his handsome face and approves of his kind blue eyes, but mentally dismisses him: too broad in the shoulders, and too short. Besides, if his soul is as kind as his eyes, he won't last 5 minutes.

"Yes, that should work," Cinna mutters to Portia thoughtfully.

"You'll need to work on the girl, maybe," she suggests. "Pretty, but a bit weak-looking, don't you think?"

Katniss once again tunes out the idle chatter of her mentor and turns her gaze back to the assistant, forgetting the names of the doomed children she has just witnessed.


	3. Chapter 3

The next two hours fly by too quickly for Katniss' liking: she is ushered out of the comfortable working and living quarters of the stylists, hurried through the shining streets, buckled into an expensive-looking stretch limousine and then herded onto one of the luxurious Capitol short-distance trains. Once on board, the stylists and their assistants are permitted to do as they please, leaving Katniss to comfortably recline on one of the hanging bean bag chairs provided.

"Katniss, you'll be working with me on the female tribute," Cinna announces, pacing the carriage and addressing each of his companions in turn. "And as I've already told you, the poor girl is from a minor district and is likely more sensitive to your slights than the rest of us, so watch your mouth, please."

"Oh, best behaviour," Katniss scoffs, rolling her eyes at the boy, who is seated opposite her and, once again, staring unashamedly at her. He snorts appreciatively.

"We mean it," Portia says sternly, chucking Katniss under the chin firmly as she passes. "This is your first year and we expect you to treat these children accordingly."

Katniss feels that this isn't worth a response, and rolls her eyes once more, before turning to gaze out of the wide train windows at the view of her city. It is a struggle for her to imagine why these children would need special treatment: though she recognises that they come from starkly different environments, the Capitol broadcasts have always shown District 12 to be a lovely place. A little bit dirty, perhaps, but certainly amiable enough.

They arrive at the Training Centre after a short and quiet trip, and an Avox shows them to their apartment, just beside the tributes' tower. It is late at night, and the stylists are exhausted from their respective trying days. Katniss kicks off her shoes in the living area and turns her nose up at the extensive meal prepared for them.

"I'll order something in my room if I'm not too tired," she declares, before marching up the stairs and shutting herself in the nearest bedroom. She collapses on the soft bed, shifting slightly and frowning at the feel of the goose feathers in the duvet – do they really have to be _quite _so sharp – before yet another Avox opens the door. The girl silently and dutifully deposits Katniss' luggage beside the door and looks up, though obviously being careful not to meet the gaze of the defiant girl sprawled before her, to inquire after any further demands.

"Ugh, leave!" Katniss groans, burying her face in her covers until she hears the door close. As she changes into some more comfortable clothes and flicks absent-mindedly through the menu placed beside the ordering speaker, her mind drifts back to the boy and girl chosen from District 12.

The girl, Katniss feels, surely won't last that long. Though she seemed to hold a certain strength of heart as she walked up the stairs to the stage, her eyes were already brimming with fear. And why would she put it all on, when Johanna Mason had already exhausted that technique? The boy surely won't make much of a lasting impression either, what with that sentimental air he sported. No, Katniss' first year as an assistant stylist is likely to see no victors from her appointed district, but of course, she may yet be promoted.

There is a timid knock on her door and she groans yet again, sitting up indignantly to shoo the Avox away. However, the boy stands there, gently holding Katniss' colossal shoes and shyly presenting them to her.

"You left these in the main room," he says, his eyes shining with admiration. Katniss adorns her best winning smile and gets to her feet, moving towards him with a sway in her hips.

"Oh, thank you," she beams, taking the shoes from him and being careful to brush her fingertips against the back of his hand. "Sorry, I must have missed the introductions the other day, what's your name?"

"The other day? They were at least a fortnight ago..." he laughs nervously, before catching her eye and clearing his throat. "I'm Huck."

"Huck, of course," Katniss bats her eyelashes. "How sweet of you to bring these to me. I'll see you tomorrow!"

She closes the door in his face before he can utter another word and drops her shoes unceremoniously on the floor. Silly boy, she thinks to herself, smiling in a superior manner. To congratulate herself for making it through such a tiresome train journey, she orders a large plate of District 4 bread (her favourite) with salmon and lemon mousse, and stuffs herself until she is simply too tired to move another muscle.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day is the day the tributes are due to arrive at the Training Centre. Resultantly, Katniss is shaken awake by an irritable Portia.

"Get some clothes on, we have to prepare for the tributes and the parade," she snaps, switching the lights on before she stomps out of the room.

Katniss, dragging her limbs and making a complete fuss, heaves herself from the bed and moves to the dressing table. She examines her appearance in the mirror, grimacing and pinching some colour into her pale cheeks. The smell of breakfast wafts in through the door Portia left ajar, and Katniss follows it, refusing to pick her feet up and letting her head loll around on her shoulders.

"Good morning," Cinna calls from the dining table. He gets to his feet and loads a plate full of raspberry jam on fruit and nut bread before handing it to Katniss and pouring her a cup of strong black coffee.

"Thanks," she smiles at him then sits down heavily beside Huck. "What's the schedule?"

Portia narrows her eyes at Katniss, having relayed the schedule only a few days ago, and pulls out a planner.

"The tributes will be arriving around 4pm, which gives us 6 hours. Until then we need to apply the finishing touches to their outfits and double check the hair and make-up teams," she reads. "You'll also need to make some time to get ready before we meet them."

"You'll be able to see the dress," Cinna says to Katniss, smiling. "I hope you'll like it."

"Oh, I'm sure I will. Not the usual coal miner get-up, then?"

"No, no," he laughs. "Nothing of the sort. I'll leave it as a surprise."

They finish breakfast with little other conversation, although Huck seldom takes his eyes away from Katniss. Normally, she bathes in attention, but as she is wearing no make-up and is sporting her natural, slightly frizzy hair, she feels shy and exposed. Which she doesn't like at all.

She disappears into her room, pulls on a simple but pretty purple strapless smock and pairs it with some silver glitter pumps, and arranges her hair in a top-knot. She slaps some make-up on, nothing too fancy, but treats herself to a little purple lip gloss, just to edge back into that confident Katniss persona she wears so well. After presenting herself to the rest of the team, Cinna takes her out of the apartment and into the basement studio, where their designs have already been unpacked.

"I'll introduce you to the team," Cinna says, leading her through a small lounge area into a sort of dressing room.

Before her sits three Capitol citizens, each as colourful and enthusiastic as the next. Cinna introduces them as Venia, a thin woman with vibrant blue hair and gold tattoos on her forehead; Flavius, with a wide smile framed by dark purple lips and a full head of orange ringlets; and Octavia, a pretty and plump young woman with pea green skin. They each embrace Katniss warmly and compliment her outfit choice. Flavius pulls out his lipstick, hoping to persuade her to try a bit on, as it would go _marvellously _with her dress. Octavia strokes Katniss' hair with her plump little fingers, wondering if a dash of colour would look better.

They leave together, Octavia twining her arm through Katniss', and sit down in the main studio. Cinna tells them to wait whilst he prepares the dress and promises to send an Avox along with refreshments.

"It's your first year as a stylist? What have you been up to?" Flavius asks amiably, squeezing in between Katniss and Venia.

"Oh, nothing major – I helped Cinna prepare a solution to go on the costumes for the parade, he wouldn't tell me what for. And I spent hours making some colourful little gems, very tiring work!" she smiles.

"Wow, I bet you'll make such a debut together," Octavia gasps, her mouth open in a perfect 'o'.

"Cinna's only told us a basic colour scheme so we can work out the hair and make-up, a lot of it is down to improvisation," Venia says.

"I'm sure everything will go together well," Katniss suggests, and Cinna interrupts, holding a long black bag.

"Now, I ask you to remain open to interpretation," he smirks. "This will look much better on."

He unzips the bag and produces a beautiful red dress, adorned up to the hips with gems of yellow and orange and blue ("I made those!" Katniss could never miss out a chance to boast).

"Oh, Cinna, it's beautiful," Venia gets to her feet and circles the dress, tracing a finger gently over the shining fabric.

"With a similar shirt for the boy," he beams, clearly proud of his genius.

"Our make-up should work fine!" Flavius claps his hands together.

With the clock ticking away, Katniss and the stylists hurry to organise last-minute arrangements, before sending the clothes and make-up to the Training Centre. Cinna keeps his vow of silence, swearing to Katniss that he will reveal all once the tributes have arrived. Katniss sheepishly admits to herself that she'd forgotten all about the small blonde girl and the stocky boy, slipping into the Capitol-famous apathy. And though she is envious of the girl that she will wear such a dress, Katniss thinks she will outshine her.


	5. Chapter 5

Without really knowing how she got there, Katniss finds herself walking towards the prep room beside Cinna, about to meet the female tribute. For some reason, she feels a lump of nerves in her throat. Cinna seems to pick up on this and winds an arm around her waist.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you two will get along fine," he mumbles.

"That's the problem," she whispers back. "Chances are this girl is going to die."

Cinna is surprised at this reaction, but keeps quiet. They pass the prep team as they walk along.

"Pretty girl," Flavius says, smiling sadly. "It's a shame."

"She's very sweet," Venia frowns, her face darkening. Octavia says nothing, but her lower lip wobbles as she nods in agreement.

Katniss knows why they react the way they do. It's the way anyone reacts when an ordinary person is reaped for the games. A pretty, sweet girl is perfect for the parade and the interview, and may scrape up a solid 5 or 6 in the training, but they rarely come home. Such goodness in a person is not suited to the bloodthirsty games.

"Have you visited Peeta?" Cinna asks.

"Yes, briefly," Venia says. "Another lovely tribute – District 12 must be full of them – but he seems stronger. They make a perfect pair."

They walk on, silently steeling themselves against any displays of emotion. It isn't common for prep teams and stylists to get this way in the face of the Hunger Games: normally, they slaver at the chance of death. As far as Katniss knows, anyway.

Cinna reaches out his hand to open the door and pauses, taking a deep breath, before he pushes it open. A small blonde girl sits on a metal table, looking nervously around and rocking her feet back and forth where they dangle in mid-air. She meets the gaze of Cinna first and smiles warmly, albeit a little anxiously.

"Madge, welcome," he says, ever the perfect host. "My name is Cinna; I'll be your stylist for the games. This is my assistant, Katniss."

"Hello," Madge accepts and returns Cinna's embrace, and then turns to Katniss expectantly.

"Nice to meet you," Katniss mutters, smiling slightly and hugging the frail girl.

Cinna examines her quietly for a moment, assessing the work of the prep team. The make-up, now Katniss looks at it, is perfectly done for such a pretty thing. It accentuates her cheekbones and pale blue eyes, and stains her lips a light and girlish pink.

"Very good, you look lovely," he says, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. Her hair is in a curled messy bun at the back of her head, though the baby curls around her ears and the nape of her neck are escaping. All adding to the impression that this girl is far too pure to be in such a place.

She beams at his genuine compliment. "Thank you."

"Now, you're probably aware that past stylists of District 12 have been less than marginally imaginative," he raises an eyebrow and she giggles appreciatively. Katniss can do nothing but stare sadly at her. "I'm going to help you make an impression."

"No more coal miner jumpsuits?" she asks hopefully.

"No more coal miner jumpsuits. What do we do to coal, Madge?"

"We... Uh, we mine it," she offers, curiously looking from Cinna to Katniss.

Katniss catches on before Madge does, and looks sceptically at her mentor. But if such a thing were to be adorned to this frail little thing, how can Cinna be sure that she won't simply shrivel up? Wouldn't it overpower her slight frame? Darken her pretty eyes and her white-blonde hair? Wash out her pale and peachy skin? Katniss is unsure, but would never question Cinna. And, she has to admit, the girl will look beautiful in the dress.

"We burn it, my dear," Cinna says mischievously. Madge looks alarmed, but calms slightly as he laughs and rests a comforting hand on hers. "Perfectly safe. I'd never let any harm come to you."

She smiles thankfully only to be interrupted as the door bursts open. Huck stands in the doorway, breathing fast and loud through his nose, his eyes black as a thunder cloud.

"Huck?" Katniss walks towards him tentatively.

"I cannot – I will not work with that – that thing!" he spits, his face turning an angry red.

"Portia? Huck, what on earth is going on?" Cinna says threateningly.

"No, Peeta! I'm not working with him!" he shouts.

"Why? Peeta was lovely to me," Madge says, her sweet, lilting voice sounding terribly out of place besides Huck's roars.

"He's so superior, so mocking," Huck begins pacing the small room, clenching his fists. "He deserved it."

"What did you do, Huck?" Katniss says darkly.

"What did I do?" he laughs, and then holds up his fist to show the bright blood on his knuckles. "I broke his nose."


	6. Chapter 6

Katniss sits alone in her room in the stylists' apartment, staring at her hands where they are clasped together in her lap. The last few hours have flown by for her, and yet she can remember every detail.

They had raced to Peeta's prep room on the other side of the building to find a petrified Portia and an unconscious Peeta, sprawled on the floor in a splash of blood. Cinna had darted over to Portia and wrapped his arms around her, mumbling vague and comforting nothings to try and calm her. She buried her face in his shoulder and began to heave with silent sobs.

Katniss, with her trembling and amateur fingers, reached out to Peeta and touched his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she had said shakily, cringing as she saw that she had stepped in his blood. And not because it may ruin her shoes.

Peeta pushed himself up to his knees and gingerly wiped the blood from his mouth. "F-fine. What did I do?"

"We were hoping you could tell us that," Cinna said from over Portia's shoulder. "What happened?"

"He came in, Portia started to tell me about the costume, we made conversation about the games..." Peeta scrunched his face up, struggling to remember. "Huck made a comment about how much he loved the games, and I said that we didn't like it that much in District 12. He asked why, and I said because it was hard to watch your friends die. I think he thought I was calling him heartless or something, so I said that it must be easier for Capitol citizens to watch. And then he punched me."

"We can't let him get away with that," Katniss had frowned, looking up at Cinna, trying not to examine Peeta's bloodstained face too closely.

"No, we can't," he had muttered, gently releasing Portia. "Katniss, please take Peeta and Portia to an Avox and ask for medical assistance. See if they can get Portia something for the shock."

Katniss got to her feet and then helped Peeta up, not wanting to wipe the blood from his hands away for fear of seeming rude, but feeling her stomach churn at the touch. Cinna quickly left the room to find Huck.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Katniss said to Peeta, wishing there was a tissue or towel she could give him. His nose had begun to drip with blood.

"Hurt, obviously," he laughed, not unkindly, wiping his hands on the white robe the prep team had dressed him in. "But I'm fine. Sorry to cause such a fuss, Katniss."

Katniss was alarmed that he had used her name: partially because she wasn't sure if he'd been paying attention before, but also because it felt strange to be addressed as an equal by someone inferior. It didn't feel bad, though. His voice was warm and impossibly homely, and the endearing common accent in which he said her name gave it a new melody she had never heard before.

"No, we're sorry you had to go through with that," she had said sincerely, wrapping an arm around Portia and helping her towards the door. "Not all Capitol citizens are like that."

Peeta smiled, looking up at Katniss and meeting her gaze for the first time. "No, I'm sure they're not."

And then Katniss knew it would all go horribly, horribly wrong from there. In that one moment when her eyes met his, she knew she was doomed. Those eyes, those beautiful and bright blue eyes, so gently piercing and boldly glowing with colour. One glance was all it took, and she knew that she would never be able to watch this boy die. She knew she would be tied to the television sets like never before, she would be watching Peeta protectively and praying for his life, giving every spare dime she had to save him. Because she'd watched District kids die before, and she'd enjoyed it: but Peeta was different.

She had taken them to an Avox, as Cinna requested, and left them in her capable but silent hands. Peeta had smiled at her in thanks and waved goodbye, and Katniss had watched them walk away. And then she wandered back to her room, somehow, and sat on her bed, and stayed there for three hours, staring.

And this is where we find her now. Sitting alone, in the middle of her goose-feathered bed, watching her unmoving hands intently and thinking. I am glad to tell you that this is the moment she experiences a reformation of character. It was difficult for me to describe how she had flirted with Huck, oblivious of his destructive ways, or how she had lounged in her studio while a machine did all her work, or how she had watched children die year after year without even bothering to remember their faces. Mentally, Katniss is no longer a Capitol citizen. She is a normal person, like you or I, and is terrified to watch the death of the boy she barely knows.


	7. Chapter 7

Cinna finds Katniss in her room after a while, not entirely understanding why she has become so forlorn. She doesn't look up until he gently touches her shoulder, pulling her from her musings.

"Katniss? What's wrong?" he asks softly, his hazel eyes peering into hers.

She takes a while to respond, struggling to return herself to the present day. Eventually, her eyes slide into focus. "Nothing."

"Well, I'm going to need you to perk up, dear," Cinna straightens up and checks his watch, a frown appearing and creasing his features. "The parade is in two hours and we now have two tributes to deal with. Peeta has had emergency surgery to fix his nose so we're going to need to be careful with re-applying makeup."

"Is he okay?" she gets to her feet, smoothing her skirt and brushing some flyaway strands of hair behind her ear.

"Fine, yes," Cinna says slowly and curiously, before putting an arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the room.

They walk back to the prep rooms whilst Cinna fills her in on what needs to be done. Madge's makeup has been untouched, so she simply needs to be dressed; however, Peeta's makeup has obviously shifted quite a bit, and accordingly Katniss will need to re-do it, and clean the blood from his face.

As they enter the prep room, they see Madge and Peeta sitting together on the metal table, laughing and clearly in the middle of a conversation. Katniss has to admit that, childishly, she feels a pang of jealousy. She knows that with their opposing backgrounds, her and Peeta will never be as comfortable with each other as Madge and Peeta are now.

"Madge, we'll get you dressed. Peeta, Katniss will take you to the other prep room and do your makeup again, okay?" Cinna smiles, once more all business. Peeta glances at Katniss nervously then slides off the table and walks towards her.

"Gonna make me pretty again, huh?" he grins, and Katniss laughs shakily, looking away quickly.

She leads him into the other prep room and quietly asks him to sit down whilst she gets out the necessary supplies. She can't help but feel that the silence in the room is horribly awkward. She soaks a soft cloth in warm water and turns around to see him watching her. He smiles slightly as he catches her gaze.

"I'm going to need to clean your face," she mutters and he nods, giving her permission to approach him.

She examines his face and sees that the blood has mainly dried, smudged across his jaw and mouth where he has tried to clear it. Trembling, she begins to wash the blood away, shivering whenever her fingertips accidentally brush his skin.

"What am I expecting from this parade, Katniss?" he asks her. Katniss is surprised to hear some genuine anxiety in his usually jokey and friendly voice. It wounds her to know that this boy, so full of bravado and smiles, is scared to lose his life. And tonight, he is scared to meet the crowd that will watch him die.

"You'll be dressed up and paraded around in a chariot in front of the Capitol citizens and President Snow," she says, trying to smile and swallowing her nerves. "This is your first chance to catch their attention. Has your mentor given you any advice?"

As they spoke, she lightly bathed his jaw and his throat, shaking more and more violently the longer she looked at the strong lines of his face. She hoped it wasn't too obvious. And how ridiculous! What was wrong with her? Big Capitol girl like Katniss shouldn't be quaking when confronted with a pretty face. She didn't even know him, anyway.

"He said he wanted to present me and Madge as a team," Peeta mused, frowning a little bit. "That seems unfair, right? But he said the Capitol would love it."

Katniss laughed. "He has a point. It's a reality show after all; throw a wrench in the works and people will fall for it. Us Capitol folk are freaks."

"Freaks?"

"Yeah, total freaks. We watch you kids die, year after year-" her movements become more violent and she rubs at the blood on his skin. "-honestly I don't know how we live with ourselves, throwing on these stupid outfits and-" she scowls, her eyes darken. "-we don't even look good! We aren't nice on the inside or out, we're just- just-"

"Katniss," Peeta says, taking the cloth from her and holding her wrist gently. She realises how much she is shaking, and how very warm his skin is. She wants to pull away but can't. Her loud and heavy breathing is the only sound until Peeta speaks again. "We don't blame you."

Suffice it to say that those four words were enough to bring tears to Katniss' eyes. Not only do they reveal Peeta's innately good and humane nature, but it stings Katniss' heart in an almost pleasant way. Each word he says hurts her, but she can't understand why. 'I just want to be like him', she thinks. 'I want to be good too.' But we know that isn't true, don't we?

"I'm sorry," Katniss says, wiping the rest of the blood from his lips and turning to pick up the powder and a sponge.

"Don't worry, we're all feeling a little strained," Peeta smirks, leaning forward to grant her easier access. She begins to apply the makeup, her lips pressed together, her eyes tightly focused. "And, for the record, you aren't a freak."


	8. Chapter 8

Once Peeta's makeup is finished, Katniss embarrassedly and shyly sends him to Cinna to get dressed, and decides to visit Madge. The costume won't be entirely ready, Katniss knows, as her mentor has a few tricks up his sleeve yet to flourish: but Madge is a pretty girl, and it would be a shame to miss out on seeing her in her prime.

She enters the prep room and sees Madge standing in the middle of the floor, gazing into a tall mirror on the opposite wall. She is dressed in a skin-tight black jumpsuit, padded at the shoulders with an ebony matte metal and paired with knee-high black military boots. She looks fearsome, undeniably, but her face is so girlish and sweet that the effect is lessened somehow. Katniss can't help but think that it doesn't quite work.

"Wow, look at you," Katniss smiles, sitting down beside the door and staring enviously at Cinna's handiwork.

"I know," Madge laughs, sounding ever-so-slightly out of breath. "I don't even look like myself."

"You look amazing," Katniss says. Madge smiles in thanks and the pair sit in silence for a few moments as they examine the costume. Eventually, the weaker part of Katniss' psyche causes her to speak out, and she immediately regrets it. "Peeta seems nice. Are you friends?"

Madge turns a beetroot red. Never a good sign. "Oh, I wouldn't say that – we've spoken once or twice, but – nothing major, he didn't really know me until the reaping, not really."

"But you knew him?" Katniss says quietly, her smile beginning to fade. Madge turns to her, biting her lip and giving the overwhelming impression that she was going to burst if she didn't speak.

"Katniss, can you keep a secret? I've told Haymitch already, but he said he'll try to help me," she rushes, kneeling down in front of Katniss and gazing imploringly at her.

"T-told him what?"

"Peeta... I've had a crush on him for as long as I can remember," she smiles, her eyes glazing over. "It sounds stupid, and I shouldn't be happy, I mean we're here, we're probably going to die, but..."

Katniss can't reply. Her mouth hangs open and her shock stops her from concealing the anger and despair she feels because of this revelation. Because she couldn't have written a better love story herself: Madge and Peeta were perfect together, anyone could see it. And next to Madge, tragic, pretty little Madge, she didn't stand a chance.

"I don't care that I'll die in there, I'll help him as much as I can but I don't care. I'm glad just to have met him properly, you know?" she carries on speaking, laughing breathily and twisting and untwisting her fingers around one another.

"You don't know what will happen in the arena," Katniss says, her mouth suddenly very dry. She knows she should dislike Madge, but can't bring herself to do it. How could she? "You're lucky to have met each other, you make a nice pair."

With that, Katniss gets to her feet, meaning to leave the room.

"Is it time to leave?" Madge asks, blinking prettily. Katniss nods, unable to look at the other girl, pushing her lips together and willing herself not to cry. Capitol girls don't cry.

She bumps into Peeta in the hall, walking in front of Cinna, presumably to show the girls his costume. And he looks so _good_, so _right _in his costume, so powerful and beautiful and so very desirable, that Katniss can't help but burst into tears.

"Dear, what's wrong?" Cinna is the first one to speak, rushing forward and wrapping his warm arms around her. He cradles her head on his shoulder and allows her to sob. As he strokes her soft hair he thinks about the change that has come about in Katniss Everdeen in the space of merely one day. He had hoped that meeting the tributes would knock some humanity into her, but he had no idea that she would endure such a reversal of character that her pride shatters before his very eyes.

Peeta and Madge, looking beautiful and alike in their costumes, can only look on: Madge, terrified that she has done something wrong to this kind Capitol girl, and Peeta, saddened. Deeply saddened.

Katniss is ushered back to her apartment by an Avox, sobbing along the way and making no effort to hide it. Once in her room, she pulls on her parade gown, fixes her hair, swaps her eye makeup for some of the waterproof variety and sits at her dressing table, crying all the while.

The Avox rests a hand on Katniss shoulder, and as Katniss looks up, she looks into the first Avox eyes she has ever seen. Beautiful, glowing, green eyes, framed with sadness and understanding.

"Why don't I want him to die?" Katniss asks her, wanting an answer so desperately that in that moment she knows she would willingly give her voice to this strange girl. But there is only silence.


	9. Chapter 9

The hour of the parade fast approaches and Katniss is forced to wear a brave smile and accompany her tributes to their grand reveal. Peeta and Madge glance at her every few seconds during the short journey, nervously watching for the tell-tale shaking shoulders or the surreptitious hand lifting to brush away a tear. No one totally understands why, but this girl is suddenly extremely unstable.

In the quiet prep rooms located off the parade hall, Katniss desperately tries not to be left alone with Peeta, but the Fates are laughing at her.

"Uh, Katniss?" Peeta says as Cinna leaves the room, escorting Madge to fix her headdress.

She steels herself and turns around, smiling icily. "Yes?"

"When you were crying before, it wasn't anything to do with me, was it? Or Madge?" he looks down at his feet, rubbing his neck nervously. "Was it my fault?"

Katniss is silent for a long while, her gaze flickering between Peeta's brilliantly blue eyes. She relents, finally, and sits down, exhaling heavily.

"I'm sorry, that was extremely unprofessional of me," she says. "In all honesty, I'm just not used to getting to know the tributes so well. It's my first year, you see."

"And you don't want us to die," Peeta finishes for her flatly, his eyes narrowing slightly but his tone sympathetic. He's experiencing something new, just the same as she is. He isn't used to seeing Capitol citizens with feelings.

"I must seem so disgusting," she laughs, hiding her face in her hands. "There you are, off to your death, and I'm here crying over you."

Peeta swallows hard. "Maybe one of us will come back, Katniss."

"But even if you do," she looks up, dropping her hands onto her lap. "_Even _then, one of you still goes to your death, and what did I do to help? I dressed you up."

He senses rather than sees the tears beginning to slip down her face and he sits beside her, hesitantly but firmly taking her hand. They sit quietly, their fingers clinging and twining together, their knuckles white.

"I don't want to die," Peeta whispers.

Katniss turns to look at him, to examine the hard line of his jaw and the length of his eyelashes and the way his hair frames his face. He has strength; people have said it all along. But he looks so breakable, so new and yet so fragile. "I don't want you to die, either."

Cinna walks in, followed by Madge, her eyes ablaze with excitement and pride at having seen her reflection. Katniss looks up and has to smile, albeit weakly; anyone would see how beautiful she looks. And yet all Katniss can think is that she looks like a gentle fairy, a placid nymph dressed in rusting armour, preparing for war. _This is wrong_, she thinks.

Madge's eyes spot Peeta and Katniss' hands where they are linked just a second before they separate, and her smile fades ever so slightly. But Cinna, in his element, notices nothing.

"Are we ready, gang?" he claps and then rubs his hands together, smiling at the teenagers standing around him. Katniss gets to her feet, the image of enthusiasm, looking elegant and ethereal in her sparkling gown. She takes Madge's hand, purposefully forgetting Peeta, still feeling the flush on her cheeks from their first prolonged physical contact.

"You'll be amazing," she beams, linking her arm through the smaller girl's and leading her out to follow Cinna.

Minutes later, Katniss and her mentor are taking a seat in the stylists' booths above the parade hall. On one end, a large open doorway awaits the entrance of the tributes on their chariots, and on the other, President Snow is seated.

"I can't wait to see the fire," Katniss smiles, lifting her cocktail and sipping the fruity liquid.

"Me neither," Cinna grins. "But enough, Katniss. What on earth is the matter with you?"

She can almost feel the blood drain from her face. She straightens up defensively. "What- what do you mean?"

"Within a day you've gone from endearingly arrogant to utterly defeated," he says, resting his large hand on her knee. "I'm worried for you."

"We can talk later, Cinna," Katniss says, hearing the anthem begin to play. "The tributes are coming."

They watch the first few districts roll out and listen to the roar of the crowd. District 1 is, expectedly, sporting a pair of fearsome children this year, adorned in golden armour. Katniss shudders to imagine little Madge up against the dark-haired, glowering beauty in the first glittering chariot.

They listen to the commentators, only half-watching the procession, when they see a faint glow from within the tunnel.

"That's them!" Katniss grins, and then the chariot of District 12 rolls out, sporting a pair of flaming, unearthly creatures.

But they aren't creatures, they are Peeta and Madge, and Katniss can only gawp at the way the fire has illuminated their delicate features. Madge is beautiful, glowing and putting out a radiance all around her, but slightly dwarfed by the flames. They wave confidently to the crowd, accepting the kisses being blown at them and beaming as their names are called a thousand times.

And then Katniss sees that they are holding hands between them, their hands tightly linked, just visible above the chariot. The commentators pick up on this just as Katniss does.

"Look at that, I love that teamwork, even before the games have started! Well done District 12!"

Katniss shrinks back to her seat, still trying to appear enthralled and proud of her tributes, unable to take her eyes from where Peeta and Madge were joined. It seemed, after Madge had walked in on them, that she had started some kind of competition. And Katniss couldn't bear any more games to try to survive.


	10. Chapter 10

That evening, the tributes and their stylists sit with Haymitch, who Katniss is meeting for the first time, and discuss the parade over a lavish meal. Madge seems to be beside herself with glee, accepting rather ungraciously the praise being poured on her by her team. Peeta largely remains silent, sporting a sheepish grin and responding as little as possible.

Haymitch, District 12's only surviving victor, acts as mentor to the two tributes. He is famed throughout the districts and even the Capitol for being a good-for-nothing drunkard, paying little (if any) attention to his tributes and letting children die year after year, refusing to take responsibility and instead taking refuge at the bottom of liquor bottles. Even now, he lounges in his dining chair, smelling strongly of alcohol and unwashed clothes, and slurring vague comments every now and again. Apparently, the 'holding hands' thing had been his idea, his own little way of getting back at the Capitol.

The tributes had been given a chance to scrub the makeup from their faces and wash the smell of smoke from their hair. Katniss, too, had taken the opportunity to hide in the shower and release one or two tears, but only before once again standing tall and regaining her dignity. _I'm not weak_, she had told herself.

Tomorrow is the day of the interview. Haymitch will go through personalities with the tributes, and Katniss and Cinna will do last-minute wardrobe checks. Madge and Peeta are clearly nervous, but Katniss thinks she might be more nervous than them. What if the rest of the Capitol sees Peeta's wealth? What if they try to change him and use him the way they did Finnick Odair? What if the Capitol falls in love with Madge and supports her relationship with Peeta as strong as she seems to?

"I'm just thrilled that you made such an entrance," beams Effie Trinket in her sing-song voice. Katniss has always been slightly bemused by this woman; for a representative of the coal mining district, Effie is extremely... shiny. "District 12 might finally get the reputation it deserves this year."

"We don't deserve nothin'," Haymitch slurs, having just finished his fifth glass of wine. "Besides, we aren't the only district that made an impression tonight."

"That's true, Caesar Flickerman couldn't get enough of the District 2 tributes," Peeta says, his eyes wide and flickering between his mentor and his district representative.

"I couldn't take my eyes off you," Katniss says, her voice much louder than she meant it to be. All eyes are suddenly on her, and she feels defensive. "You and Madge were literally radiant. How could anyone have ignored you?"

"What's done is done," Cinna smiles, leaning forward and thankfully detracting the attention away from scarlet-faced Katniss. "We have the interview to worry about now, and with tributes as charming as you two, we won't have a problem."

"Enough of business, enjoy your meals!" Effie trills. "Whatever happens in the games, you're only going to be served this kind of dish right here in the Capitol, so eat up!"

"Like a walkin' ad, ain't she?" Haymitch says under his breath, picking up his knife and fork. Effie shoots him an icy glare, and they continue to eat their meals in silence.

That night, Katniss adjourns to her room in the stylist's apartment, whilst the tributes are up on the top floor of the Training Centre. She can see the floor-length window from her room, and finds herself checking it every few minutes, wanting to see if she can spy Peeta or Madge. No such luck, of course.

She sits down heavily on her bed, staring at her hands. She had her nails done only a week ago and they are already beginning to chip. She makes a small irritable noise and gets up, planning to go and root through the makeup bags for a nice nail colour.

As she leaves her room, she pauses, looking around her. It is strange to think that only that morning was Huck fired as an apprentice stylist. So much has happened in the space of a day that Katniss feels like she has aged terribly. She stops to take a moment for Huck, wondering what could be happening to him after assaulting a tribute.

After finding a nail colour, she returns to her room, only to drop the little bottle on the floor in sudden shock. It hits the stone steps, shattering and sending glass and paint over her feet. It breaks the silence, piercing the air and striking fear through Katniss' heart. She dares not make a sound. The next thing she hears is Huck's devilish breath in her ear as he leans forwards from behind her and whispers, "Katniss, I came back for you."


	11. Chapter 11

A few hours pass, and Katniss sits in the lounge in the tributes' apartment, ashen-faced and trembling. It is early, just past midnight. Cinna sits beside her, holding a thick fur blanket around her shoulders. Effie is pacing back and forth, chattering away to the security on a little diamante headset. Haymitch has yet to wake up, and is still passed out across his bed. The tributes are sitting in silence in armchairs either side of Katniss.

"I want to know who was responsible for protecting us at eleven o'clock!" Effie snaps, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed. "You don't-? I want to talk to your supervisor! Immediately!"

"We'll sort it out, Katniss," Cinna mumbles comfortingly.

Katniss isn't sure how they'd sort something like this out. Get a security guard fired, lock Huck away. That wouldn't change what happened.

After hearing Huck's voice in her ear, Katniss hadn't dared to move. She was barely breathing for fear of moving too quickly, as though she was in the presence of some wild animal. And when he started circling her, his eyes raking over her as though she was a lump of meat, she understood why.

"I'm not going anywhere," she had whispered, cursing herself for sounding so weak. That was no way to defend herself from some mentally unstable admirer. She cleared her throat and planted her feet a little more firmly on the floor, clenching her fists.

Huck stopped pacing and stood in front of her, uncomfortably close. He frowned. "But if I take you away, we can be together."

"The guards escorted you off the premises, Huck," Katniss hissed, her voice wavering and her lips trembling. Something about him had changed. His eyes were definitely darker, and the only word to describe his actions was 'unhinged'.

"So? They only dumped me at my parents' place," he had grinned. "Not that hard to walk back. Come on, don't pretend you don't want me."

Katniss had planned on standing firm, but as he leant closer and closer to her, the overpowering stench of vodka on his breath made her stumble back. She caught her feet on the steps and fell to the floor.

Slowly, horrifyingly, his smile grew, and he lowered himself down on top of her, crawling over her like a slavering wolf. "Get off me, Huck." Katniss had meant her voice to sound threatening but it sounded more like she was begging.

He laughed under his breath, and his eyes slid out of focus as his hand slid up her leg. "All that flirting, showing me your legs... You've wanted this as long as I have."

She pulled her arms in front of her chest and scrunched up her face, desperately trying to choke down the tears of revulsion and fear. And that was when Cinna had seen them from the dining area, having heard the smashed glass. He stormed in, ferocious and flaming, and threw Huck off his assistant. Katniss had run out at the first chance she got, but she heard from Portia that two Avoxes had to hold Cinna away from Huck.

Effie storms out of the room, impatiently waiting for some poor guard's supervisor to deal with her wrath. Cinna is still shaking, and Katniss feels it through her blanket. Then again, she is shaking too. They sit in silence until Cinna laughs quietly.

"You'll think I'm awful, but for a moment, I thought it was consensual," he says quietly. Katniss looks at him. "Can you really blame me?"

"Of course she can't, after how she led that poor boy on," Portia snaps from where she sits at the dining table. "I can hardly blame _him_, let alone you, Cinna."

Peeta jumped to his feet. Everyone looks at him in surprise, even Haymitch, who they had thought was unconscious. "Don't talk to her like that."

"Peeta!" Effie comes in at the wrong time, sounding appalled. "I think we should all get to bed! Tonight has been stressful enough, and tomorrow evening we have interviews to worry about!"

Gradually, they get to their feet and move away. Katniss stays on the sofa, shivering despite the thick blanket. Peeta bends down to tie his shoelace until the room is empty, and then straightens up.

"Thank you," Katniss mutters, looking down at her knees. "For defending me."

Peeta is silent for a long while. "I just couldn't let her blame you. Not for that. I've seen it before and it knocks me sick."

"Before?"

"In my district. The Head Peacemaker, some of the shopkeepers... They think women are there for their entertainment," Peeta spits angrily. He looks up at Katniss. "Just like how the Capitol thinks we are here for their entertainment."

"I don't," she says. "I mean, I did. But I've never met tributes before. You changed everything."

Katniss cringes. It didn't sound that way in her head. Peeta sits beside her, slowly, and takes her hand once more. She doesn't dare to move, all she can think about is how different this is to being touched by Huck. When his hands were sliding up her legs, she felt sick, her skin prickled uncomfortably and fear crept up the back of her neck. But this, this innocence offered by Peeta, this simple holding of her hand feels beautiful. His hands are warm and rough, bigger than hers, and his thumb draws shapes on her skin. She examines the back of his hand, the scars and freckles.

And then, so quickly she doesn't know if it actually happens, he lifts her hand to his mouth and kisses it, softly, gently. She looks up and they meet eyes for an instant, before he leaves her alone in the wide, empty space.


End file.
